


where even the spoiled wind and timid cloud can embrace each other

by jeien



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Library, Fairy Tale Elements, IDOLiSH7 Secret Santa 2019, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:42:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21948256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeien/pseuds/jeien
Summary: There once lived a spoiled wind that blew freely throughout the skies. The spoiled wind took whatever it desired without consequence, whether it be to idly cast breezes that made tufts of dandelion seeds dance or to wreak havoc against villages by blowing down their wooden shelters. Neither the strong earth nor the graceful waters nor the enduring fires could rise up to stop it, so they let it do as it pleased.Well, doesn’t this little bastard sound familiar.
Relationships: Midou Torao/Tsunashi Ryuunosuke
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	where even the spoiled wind and timid cloud can embrace each other

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elios (zostir)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zostir/gifts).



> My Secret Santa gift for [novumbre](https://twitter.com/novumbre/)! It's my first time writing ToraRyuu but I've been falling down that spiral with you guys so, I hope I did it justice and that you enjoy!

There once lived a spoiled wind that blew freely throughout the skies. The spoiled wind took whatever it desired without consequence, whether it be to idly cast breezes that made tufts of dandelion seeds dance or to wreak havoc against villages by blowing down their wooden shelters. Neither the strong earth nor the graceful waters nor the enduring fires could rise up to stop it, so they let it do as it pleased.

Well, doesn’t this little bastard sound familiar.

Torao sighs and shuts the book with a flippant flick of the wrist. It’s clear from the font size and illustrations that the story is meant for kids. Even if he just stepped into the library for no other reason than to escape the heat as he waited for his afternoon appointment with the regional manager, there’s no reason for him to be reading something like this. There are more appropriate books that call out the general faults of his character for people his age. He doesn’t need a children’s tale to remind him that he’s a shitty person with limited moral prospects.

The clock on the wall ticks slower than it should. He checks his phone. Still an hour left to go until that meeting.

With a sigh, Torao gets up from his spot. It’s probably best to let the library pages shelve the book, but he has time to kill. Might as well wander around and put it back himself. With the hardcover in hand, he makes his way up the nearest set of stairs. 

A crowded bulletin board full of program flyers greets him at the top, surrounded by vibrant decorations fitting the summer season. Children’s Room, the beam overhead reads. Looks like he’s found the right place. Thankfully, there aren’t many kids or their parents around. Being a single bachelor with no ward in sight might cause a lot of suspicion, though he can always make up any manner of excuse and probably get away with it. A nice face can unfortunately get you far like that. 

_Huh_ , Torao thinks as his eyes wander around, eventually landing on a large desk by the area’s opening. Looks like his wasn’t the only nice face around: one that’s soft and light where Torao is sharp and dangerous. The man by the desk is wondrously fit with broad shoulders, a wide torso and well-defined arms; his countenance is as bright as the summertime, but not so overbearing. With his large hands, he carefully cuts shapes from pieces of construction paper and sets them aside in a pile.

Girls would go nuts for that kind of gap.

“Hi, there,” the man greets, finally seeing Torao. “Can I help you with anything?”

 _You can help me get your number, sure_ —is what he nearly blurts out in his distraction. Instead, he opts for, “I’m just gonna put this back, so I think I’m good.”

The man, now obviously one of the librarians, smiles and holds out his hand. “I can take it for you, if you’d like.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

He doesn’t believe in the romantic sparks that happen when fated people make skin contact, but he also can’t deny that _something_ happened as he passed the book over to the librarian. Something that left a little tingle in his fingertips while the librarian smiled upon seeing the cover of the book.

“Oh, I love this book! I used to read it to my brothers all the time when I was younger.” There’s something about the man that shakes up so many feelings in Torao’s chest enough to make it clench tight: shock, irritation, pity, curiosity, endearment. A whole cocktail of patch-quilt emotions that he’s not used to dealing all at once, not since he himself had been a younger boy with dreams of saving the world on the back of a motorcycle. The librarian doesn’t seem to notice his internal dilemma and continues, “It’s such a nice story, don’t you think?”

Is it? Torao replies, “It’s alright.”

(The spoiled wind drew many things to it. Of those many things were the clouds that share his sky. One of the clouds invited it to float along the currents with them, but it simply blew the clouds away.)

The librarian briefly flips through the book, that smile softening but never leaving his lips. “I think it’s great. Every person needs to remember that there’s someone who wants them, even if they’re a little bad at first.”

A tingle. A clench.

Someone else comes up the set of stairs. A young man with pale pink hair and a strait-laced, if not bored, expression. “Ryuu, we need you down at checkout to handle a dispute on a lost-and-paid for a children’s item. Momo’s almost done with his break, so he’ll cover the desk while you take care of it.” 

“I’ll be down in a second, Tenn,” the librarian tells the young man. He sets the book down on the desk, by his pile of paper, and says, “I’ll come back in a bit to shelve that.”

“Go do what you need to do. I’m just about to head off anyway.”

“Really? That’s a shame. I was hoping to talk to you a little more after.”

Another tingle. Another clench.

What the hell’s going on?

“My name’s Ryuunosuke, by the way,” the librarian finally introduces himself as he walks away from the desk and towards the stairs. Torao, for some reason, feels compelled to follow. “I’m usually here in the late morning and early afternoon, if you want to stop by again. I don’t usually get people my age up here unless they’re with kids. And you seem like a nice guy, so I’d love to chat some more.”

It’s sincerity, he realizes.

This guy is too sincere and Torao doesn’t know what to do with it. But, after all the apathetic days of being blown around by shallow praises and empty loves, he craves more. Torao _wants_ it, desperately. Wants it enough to try and take advantage of it—even though there’s a buried part of him from his boyhood that tells him this man seems so easy to take advantage of, that it’s wrong because he’s vulnerable.

Like the spoiled wind, Torao can be a greedy son-of-a-bitch.

So, just like that, Torao plasters on his trademark smile that had drawn dozens to him and says, “Looking forward to it.”

They split ways at the base of the stairs, with Ryuunosuke making a beeline for the very sour-faced patron and exasperated library assistant at the main desk. He lets his gaze linger a little more as he watches Ryuunosuke diffuse the situation and handles the problem with a calm voice and respect.

Even after the wind blew and blew and blew, the cloud always came back—that’s what had been written. The cloud said it knew the spoiled wind was lonely and tired and angry of his own behaviors. The cloud said it wanted to be the spoiled wind’s friend, even if the spoiled wind lashed out.

Torao isn’t the wind and Ryuunosuke isn’t a cloud. Their lives aren’t as simple as a children’s book. The world isn’t as neat and tidy as to let long-standing emotional problems be solved through persistent offerings of friendship.

But there’s a tingle in his fingertips and a clench in his chest and a longing in his heart. So, as he steps out of the library with half an hour still left to kill and plans to return the following afternoon, Torao foolishly chooses to hope anyway.

(Unbeknownst to him, Tenn catches Ryuunosuke lightly slapping his own cheeks after the lost-and-paid had been taken care of. He huffs out a sigh and tells his coworker, “I don’t trust that guy.”

“He seems alright to me,” Ryuunosuke replies, the faint redness refusing to leave his cheeks. “Besides, there’s just something about him…”

The library assistant at the main desk quirks a brow. “Wow, didn’t think you were the guy to fall for looks right off the bat.”

“I mean, he _is_ pretty attractive…”

Tenn clicks his tongue. “Gaku, you’re not helping.” 

“Oh, like how you didn’t help me with that patron five minutes ago?” Gaku cleanly snaps back without missing a beat.

For his part, Ryuunosuke slips away while they begin to bicker quietly between themselves. He finds Momo cheerfully at the Children’s Room desk, directing a father and daughter to the online catalogue computer and answering some inquiries about reading levels.

He spots the book the man from before gave him to shelve—and it’s then that Ryuunosuke realizes that he never got the man’s name.

Taking the hardcover into his hands, he sighs and hopes that the man comes back soon.)

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone's asking: yes, I did make up that fairy tale, thank you. I also just shamelessly put bits and pieces of my own work life there (though I'm not a children's librarian, thank goodness; they have it the hardest).
> 
> Support your local libraries and come scream with me on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/jeienb/)


End file.
